Drunken Dream Guy

: My Crush Called Me Wife

One night, my crush was standing at my door.

His eyes hazy with drink, he called me his wife.

A tipsy crush is just so adorable! Aaaah!

He was like that fluffy Samoyed from downstairs.

The next day, I came home late at night to find him sitting by my door, chin cupped in his hands, softly calling me his wife.

Who could possibly resist that?

And if he was calling me his wife, then of course I had to take him home.

A straight-shooting girl vs. the reserved guy with an alcohol allergy.

1.

At 9:30 p.m., I had just made some instant noodles and was eating them while watching a workout video.

My body wasn't moving, but my soul was jumping right along.

Suddenly, someone started pounding on my door. I looked and saw it was my crush from across the hall.

We went to the same university and were both recommended for an internship at the same company.

So, by a stroke of luck, we ended up as neighbors, living right across the hall from each other.

The man I'd been drooling over for three years was now just a single door away from me.

"Zane Thorne, what's up?" I asked as I opened the door. He had been hanging his head, but he suddenly looked up, grinned at me, and announced, "I'm hungry."

He rubbed his stomach as he spoke.

Me: "?"

Zane Thorne had always been cold and taciturn. In the three years we were classmates and the three months we'd been neighbors, we had exchanged fewer than ten sentences.

Even when we ran into each other, he wouldn't so much as spare me a glance.

"Are... are you drunk?" I took a sniff. Yep, I could smell alcohol on him.

Zane Thorne slumped against my doorframe, whining pitifully, "Hungry!"

That single, melodramatic word, coming from the face I'd dreamed about for three years...

I mean, who could possibly resist that?

"I only have instant noodles. You'll have to make do," I said, letting him inside. By the time I'd closed the door, he was already sitting at my table, cupping his face in his hands again.

I muttered some Choice Words under my breath, trying to ignore how tempted I felt as I sat down across from him and stared.

"Zane Thorne, are you possessed or something?"

'He doesn't even smell that strongly of alcohol. Could he be allergic?'

"Feed me," he demanded, turning to me and opening his mouth. "Aah..."

Me: "!"